


Soldier Following Orders

by OtterHell



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Blackwatch Era, Daddy Kink, Gabe is so done with everything, Jesse is full of cock(iness), M/M, PWP, Pre-Fall, Sass, Smut, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 07:49:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12526488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtterHell/pseuds/OtterHell
Summary: Gabe wants to blow off some steam after his last fight with Morrison. Jesse just wants to blow.





	Soldier Following Orders

**Author's Note:**

> This account is run and managed by two people: Tea and Fresh. 
> 
> We are RP partners, and we're using this platform to unload our (copious) number of RPs.  
> Mostly smut, tbh. 
> 
> The POV changes frequently, given the nature of roleplay writing, and if there are any noticeable continuity gaps it's 100% because it was abandoned for a few days/weeks before picking it up again. 
> 
> None of these works have been edited, touched up, or polished.

_ Deep breaths, McCree _ .

 

He'd been with Blackwatch all of four months. Four months since he'd been dragged in, kicking and screaming. Four months since he'd been sat in an interrogation chair and given a choice: death or debt. Four months since Gabriel Reyes had leaned over a table, the slap of his palms on the steel nearly deafening, and growled out the terms of Jesse's sentence, like he already knew what Jesse would pick, like he'd seen past that snarling facade, past the way Jesse yanked at the cuffs around his wrists until the skin was red and raw, into the depths of his damn soul and found whatever was there  _ lacking _ . 

 

At the end of it all Jesse, damn his pride, had chosen  _ debt  _ \- if only to prove Reyes dead-fucking- _ wrong _ . 

 

Four months later, he wore the same bruises he'd started out with. At least that's what it felt like, staring at himself in the mirror of the public washroom after another grueling sparring session with one of the other recruits. Jesse prodded his side, blooming purple over patches of yellow that had spent the past week healing. He winced and pressed harder, until the throb was too much to bear and the skin turned white under his finger. When he let go, the color returned, as did a fresh wave of pain that had him exhaling sharply and clenching his fist until his nails dug into his palm. 

 

He was the youngest one there, was the thing. The youngest and the only one without any real hand-to-hand combat. Sure, a few scraps here and there when he'd been young ( _ younger _ , because Jesse was barely over the cusp of puberty, voice still cracking at inopportune moments and the first curls of hair just appearing on his chest), had given him a taste of blood in his mouth and bruises on his knuckles, but it had been nothing compared to what he had to deal with here. He was half the size of even the next-smallest recruit, and no one held punches when it came to the  _ runt  _ of the litter. 

 

On good days, when Jesse was on top of his game, he could at least dodge - could use his slighter form to dart out of the way and put whoever he was against on their back. This wasn't one of those days, and whatever had crawled up Reyes' ass that morning and died had had his commander wound up tighter than usual, which had resulted in Jesse on the mat again. And again.  _ And again _ , before Reyes had finally called it quits. 

 

It was probably another fight with Morrison. 

 

It was  _ always  _ another fight with Morrison. They weren't very subtle, honestly, and everyone in the barracks knew about whatever on-again-off-again thing they had, even if everyone avoided the details. It was no big deal. Fraternization was frowned upon, generally-speaking, but members of Blackwatch didn't exactly have homes and families to go back to, and they all had certain needs to speak of. It wasn't like Overwatch - the bright and shining face of the operation that the world could turn to when they needed something to believe in. Maybe Morrison felt bad, knowing the seedy business Blackwatch had to do in order to get the job  _ done _ . Maybe he thought ass would be good enough compensation for the MIAs and the high mortality rate Reyes had to deal with every day.

 

Whatever his reasons, the fact that Morrison indulged Reyes'  _ needs  _ would probably not end well for either of them, but it wasn't none of  _ Jesse's  _ business. His only business was knowing when one of their off periods was, if only so that he could make himself scarce those days, or as the case had recently been, those  _ weeks _ . 

 

Unfortunately, it was not so easy to avoid his commanding officer in such close quarters as the members of Blackwatch shared. Which was why, recently ( _ recently  _ being the first and, supposedly, last time he'd seen Reyes without a shirt on), Jesse had reworked his entire modus operandi. It was logical, really. At least in Jesse's head. 

 

Morrison was pissed. Reyes was also pissed, presumably because Morrison had changed the lock codes to their room or put on his favorite chastity belt or something. That was where Jesse came in.

 

Or, in theory, that was where he was  _ supposed  _ to come in. 

 

But no amount of subtle hints or accidental flirtation seemed to do anything to phase his commanding officer. It was  _ infuriating _ . On top of that, it was a blow to Jesse's delicate, teenaged pride, which wasn't used rejection. He was tall and gangly and long-haired - a hit among the fellas in seedy bars for his slim figure and his cocky attitude. The fact that it  _ wasn't working _ (was probably contributing to his ass getting beat in training, more likely than not), had Jesse's blood boiling, had him acting more reckless on and off the field. 

 

_ 'You ain't been watchin' your side, cabron.'  _

 

Jesse could almost hear Reyes' voice berating him for his piss-poor performance, and that was the worst part, wasn't it? The longer he spent trying to cozy up to the commander, the more he actually  _ wanted  _ it, to the point that Jesse spent more nights than he could count fervently touching himself under the thin covers of his bunk, choking back hiccuped moans and biting his wrist to keep from making too much noise. 

 

It was fucking pathetic. 

 

_ What would Reyes think? _

 

That thought alone had Jesse angrily shoving his underarmor back over his head, pushing his arms through the sleeves. Reyes would think him  _ lacking _ . He  _ had  _ an objective (an easy one, cause what grown man didn't like a nice piece of willing ass?) and he couldn't even figure out how to approach it properly. 

 

It was pathetic. 

 

But, perhaps, Jesse was coming at it all wrong. Subtlety wasn't really his  _ shtick _ ,  _ y'see? _ He came in, guns blazing and voice loud, and nothing no one said was going to change that about him, no matter how many drills he was pushed through or covert simulations Reyes forced him to run. 

 

Maybe, just maybe, he just needed a bit of an attitude adjustment. 

 

With that idea firmly cemented in his head and his confidence fully restored, Jesse glanced himself over in the mirror one last time, pleased by the tightness of his shirt and the lingering beads of sweat dotting his brow. A shower might've done him some well, but there was something somewhere about pheromones, or some shit, and this felt like it would be his last damn chance to get  _ something  _ \- Reyes' approval or at least his attention, Jesse didn't care at this point - which would sate the deep-seated craving that gnawed at his gut and made his chest ache, sometimes. 

 

He swept out of the bathroom, a little spitfire with his shoulders squared and his chin held high, steps quick and sure all the way to Reyes' office. He didn't knock, didn't bother to announce himself or give his commander the courtesy of preparing for his arrival. 

 

Jesse barged in, grin showing too many teeth, and slammed the door shut behind himself, determination and  _ want  _ overshadowing any reason that might've tried to rattle around his head. 

 

Luckily for Jesse, Reyes was there to witness the entire spectacle he made of himself, sat behind his desk and doing something that was surely important. Jesse didn't care. He closed the distance between them, drawing himself up to his full height above the desk, then in a move too quick to be anything but hindbrain, lurched down, knocking his mouth against Reyes' in what was supposed to be a kiss. No matter. The clack of teeth aside, it was a start, one that Jesse followed up on with his hands flat on the desk and his eyes boring darkly into Reyes'. 

 

"I know you want this." He didn't, not really, but he spat out the first thing that came to mind despite the flush on his cheeks and the faint tremor in his ass. He could get kicked out - of the office, of Blackwatch, of what little space he'd managed to carve for himself here. He could get his ass beat all the way from here to his bunk, but Jesse was too deep now to back out, grinning wild and cocksure while he stared Reyes down. "I  _ know  _ you do,  _ Gabe _ . So what the  _ hell's  _ been stoppin' you?" 

 

Gabe missed the good old days -- though they hadn't felt entirely  _ good _ back then, and it was only in retrospect that he really came to appreciate them. SEP had been in some ways a fucking nightmare: The grueling physical training, the complete isolation from the outside world, the days spent in medical strapped to machines with all manner of IVs and needles under his skin. But Morrison had been there, at least, an honest-to-God ray of sunshine amid the cold sterility of the barracks. They were fast friends and ever faster lovers (Gabe wouldn't have deigned to call them anything more than  _ fuck buddies _ at the time, but, damn him, Jack had turned him  _ soft _ ), and it had all been so much simpler. No Overwatch. No Blackwatch. No UN breathing down their necks. There was just Gabe and Jack, two naive kids who dreamed of saving the world, side-by-side.

 

Gabe had given up on that dream quickly, had crushed it under his boot with bitter finality when the Omnic Crisis ended and the world continued falling to shit. Putting down the hordes of renegade bots had been one thing -- they all functioned on pure logic, carrying out their programming and following one single-minded purpose. Their motivations were clear-cut, their actions predictable. 

 

People were different. Their motives didn't always follow reason. Some of them fought and fucked for the sheer pleasure of it. Some of them found enjoyment in watching the world rebuild only to tear it down again. Like kids kicking sandcastles. 

 

The number of terrorist cells and criminal organizations that had popped up after the war had been staggering. So were the death tolls, rising higher by the day. Victory had quickly turned to ash; Gabe couldn't help but wonder if the renegade Omnics hadn't had the right idea trying to put their species down. You took out one group of terrorists, and another crawled out of the refuse months later, sowing more chaos, wreaking more havoc and destruction. Mankind was a fucking  _ disease.  _

 

Yeah, Gabe missed the old days. The world was shit then, too, but at least it hadn't felt like he was bearing the weight of it on his shoulders. At least it hadn't felt like his fight was pointless.

 

And at least he and Morrison were still on speaking terms.

 

Gabe glowered at the holo screen in front of him, scanning through a mission report he was supposed to have forwarded to  _ Commander Morrison _ an hour ago. Mendoza had, unsurprisingly, completely fucked it up, and Gabe had taken it upon himself to rewrite the report until it was at least semi coherent. It wasn't technically his job to, but Gabe was nothing if not thorough -- most just called him a hard-ass. Not that he cared. There was a reason he was good at his job, and if that meant working long hours and earning himself a reputation as mean, no-nonsense bastard, so be it. Gabe had long-since stopped giving a damn about what the world thought of him. For the most part, they didn't think much now that he had been thrust out of the limelight to serve as Blackwatch's acting CO. The public had more or less forgotten about him, had moved on to bigger, brighter things like golden boy Morrison _.  _ It didn't matter to Gabe, honestly -- the shadows suited him just fine. There was less oversight, no PR headaches to deal with. Blackwatch was his beast and Gabe was free to operate as he pleased.

 

He ran a tight ship -- tighter than usual, as of recently, because it had been  _ one fucking month _ since he and Jack last spoke and Gabe was feeling increasingly agitated about the whole ordeal. He wasn't even sure what they were even fighting about anymore, but that was nothing new. They seemed to clash over just about everything lately: How Overwatch should be run. How Blackwatch should be run. Whether or not they should disband. Gabe's recruiting choices (Jack was  _ still _ sour over the kid). The constant tension between them was no doubt aggravated by all the other shit they were dealing with, respectively, but Gabe felt like there was something else pushing them apart. He couldn't say for certain what it was, only that he had been spending many a night ruminating over it, grimly nursing a bottle of  _ Patrón  _ and burning through a half pack of cigarillos. When he awoke the next day, barely-rested and hungover, with those thoughts still festering in his head, Gabe was in a particularly dark mood.

 

On those days -- and that had been  _ most days _ , as of late -- Gabe earned his reputation as a mean son-of-a-bitch. He pushed his recruits harder, kept them at training longer, and leaped on just about any excuse to chew them out for minor indiscretions. It was petty, probably. Gabe didn't give a shit. No matter how nasty he was in here, it was nothing compared to the real world. In a way, he was doing them a favor.

 

That same thread of logic -- that firm belief in  _ tough love  _  -- was what dictated Gabe's treatment of his youngest recruit. True, McCree had already seen his fair share of the  _ real world _ , had already been through hell and back during his Deadlock days, but that didn't mean the kid should be coddled. The brat probably wouldn't have appreciated it much, anyway, with that machismo and hair-trigger temper of his. If Gabe had taken an immediate shining to him, he never let on.

 

Unless, of course, one counted how much harder he was on Jesse than the other recruits, especially on his 'bad days'. Gabe had thrown the kid around in the sparring ring more times than he could count, had left him hobbling to the locker room with bloody noses and sprained ribs and smatterings of bruises. Jesse always bounced back. If there was one thing he had to give the kid credit for, as far as his hand-to-hand skills were  concerned, he could really take a punch. He sure as hell took them better than he gave them, anyway, though Gabe was confident he could teach the kid how to be more than just a crackshot. Maybe once he filled out a little bit, got some more muscle and weight on that lithe body of his...

 

There was a flash on the holo screen, pulling Gabe out of his distracted reverie. He immediately scowled -- it was a message from Morrison. That might have gotten his hopes up, a week ago, when he had still been clinging to the belief that Jack would call off this silence between them any day now. The only correspondence they kept was work-related, and even that had been stifled. This was likely no different, just some curt reminder that the mission report was overdue. Gabe deleted the message without bothering to read its contents, a bitter taste in his mouth that he was already itching to chase away with a few shots of tequila. He fully intended to indulge that vice, too, right after he finished his work. He dived back into it with little enthusiasm, clacking the keys harder than what was strictly necessary, and trying not to let his mind wander back to Morrison and the empty bed he'd be falling into tonight.  _ Again _ .

 

His office door swung open and shut a few moments later, shattering the focus Gabe had just-barely managed to piece together. This set his teeth on edge, had him immediately glancing up at the lanky figure blustering toward him like he goddamn  _ owned _ the place.

 

Gabe narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He didn't have the chance to; Jesse was at his desk in an instant and on his  _ mouth _ in the next. It took a moment to register the clumsy act as a kiss -- it was too graceless, more an uncoordinated smash of Jesse's lips and teeth that Gabe neither reciprocated nor immediately reacted to. The kid was babbling the second he pulled away, all bravado and confidence that Gabe could immediately see through as being mostly improvised bullshit. He was not an easy man to fool; he read people too well, and Jesse in particular was like an open book to him.

 

So, the kid had no idea whether or not Gabe 'wanted' him. He was just blindly grasping at straws; it just so happened that he had stabbed at the truth. After all, Gabe knew for a fact that he was never obvious in checking the kid out; he wouldn't be the head of covert ops if he wasn't good at being subtle. But  _ yeah _ , he'd noticed Jesse alright. He'd been keeping such a close eye on the kid since bringing him into the fold that it was impossible  _ not _ to spot the way he'd started growing into that gangly body of his, finally filling out a bit from all the training and nutrition, actually growing some hair on his chest and his chin. Objectively, Gabe was aware that Jesse was good-looking, and he didn't have any shame in admitting to himself that he'd stared at that naked ass of his on a few occasions in the locker rooms and wondered what it would look like with those cheeks spread and a cock between them. Gabe hadn't necessarily imagined  _ his _ cock -- it was more an idle fantasy, something that wormed its way into his thoughts on lonely nights when he needed something to blow his load to. 

 

That was another problem with this shit between him and Jack -- Gabe couldn't stand the dry spells. He might be pushing forty, but  _ dammit, _ he still needed sex as often as he had when he was still young and hot-blooded. It was probably an unforeseen side-effect of the SEP protocols. 

 

Whatever the case, sexual frustration was right up there with reasons why Gabriel Reyes was in a piss-poor mood, and Jesse -- cheeky little brat that he was -- seemed to think it was his place to offer his CO a helping hand. Gabe wasn't sure whether he should feel impressed at Jesse's audacity or furious at his stupidity. He wound up settling on something in-between.

 

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?" he didn't raise his voice, but it was clear by the growled undertone and the way he was leering up at the kid that he was just about ready to. His office walls were soundproofed, anyway, and while yelling never did seem to have much of an effect on Jesse, he sure as hell deserved a good verbal-lashing.

 

And maybe another kind of lashing, but Gabe felt there might be something unconscionable about that particular train of thought. Not like he knew for sure; Gabe hadn't ever had much interest in right or wrong. That was more Jack's area.

 

_ Jack _ . Fuck. Why was that bastard still kicking around his thoughts?

 

Gabe's scowl deepened, and he stood up suddenly from his chair, grabbing at the collar of Jesse's shirt before the kid could make any moves to retreat.

 

"What part of  _ any _ of that seemed like a good idea to you, huh? Busting into my office this time of night -- didn't even fucking  _ knock _ ," Gabe's lip curled, and he twisted his hand tighter in Jesse's collar as he glared down at him. "-- _ kissing _ me, your CO. Are you seriously this fucking stupid?"

 

The confidence that he'd cultivated before barging into his CO's office fizzled out like a weak flame the moment Reyes' low growl filled the air between them.

 

This was a bad idea.

 

Jesse, however, was already balls-deep in it and far too proud to back out now, even when hauled down by his shirt to meet the scowl leveled at him. Reyes' breath was warm, mouth close enough to kiss again. Jesse wasn't stupid enough to try it a second time, though his grin was as wide as ever and his eyes were far too bright for someone supposedly ( _ definitely _ ) in trouble. 

 

"Guessin' it depends on if it _ worked." _ Breathing was getting to be more difficult of an exercise, what with Reyes' hands fisted in his shirt and pulling the collar just a little too tight, but damn it if Jesse wouldn't die one day with some smarmy comment on the tip of his tongue and a cocky smirk to follow.

 

In all frankness, he was terrified. Terrified, and embarrassingly-enough, turned on.

 

Which, for a kid his age with what appeared to be several suicide wishes, shouldn't of been that much of a surprise. Luckily for McCree, the desk was just high enough to cover the waistband of his pants and subsequently the tented stretch of fabric over his dick, which had sprung to attention the moment Reyes' growled at him and strained at that unnerving eye contact. It wasn't the first time Jesse had gotten hard while being manhandled, but it was the first time he intended to  _ do _ something about it. What, though, he wasn't entirely sure.

 

His lashed fluttered when Reyes pulled just that little bit harder, hauled him half an inch closer so that the wood of his desk dug cruelly into bruises on Jesse's hips, and the noise he made was caught between a gasp and a whimper, something that might not of even been heard had they not been so close. Jesse doubted he'd be able to save face from that one, but his hands came up anyway and his fingers curled around thick wrists, like he would honestly be able to pull Reyes off him if he tried.

 

"Did it,  _ sir _ ?" The cool, annoyed gaze leveled at him suggested that it didn't, but Jesse was desperate, pink tongue darting over his suddenly-dry bottom lip. "Cause I can show ya thing or two if it did."

 

As far as Gabe could tell, he had one of two options here.

 

The first -- suggested to him by that little voice in the back of his head that Gabe assumed was supposed to be his conscience -- was to kick Jesse out of his office right then and there. He'd follow it up with a nasty lecture on why trying to seduce your superior officers was grounds for a reprimand (and a kick in the ass), and work Jesse even harder than usual during tomorrow's training session.

 

His second option was to say  _ fuck it _ , in both senses of the word, and see where the kid wanted to go with this. The way those eyelashes of his were fluttering, the keening sound he made when Gabe pulled him closer, that intentionally provocative slip of his tongue along the seam of his mouth -- none of it escaped Gabe's notice. He was thinking tactically, even now, as he tried to work through his current 'dilemma' _ ,  _ tried to weigh the pros and cons while his conscience continued insistently reminding him that he shouldn't even be  _ considering  _ what Jesse was putting out there.

 

Ultimately, it was because this voice of so-called reason sounded a hell of a lot like Jack that Gabe decided on  _ opción dos.  _ This was partly motivated by spite, he realized; Gabe couldn't stand this extended silence and dry spell, especially when he couldn't stop thinking about the damn bastard. But he also didn't actually give a shit about what the morally responsible decision was. As far as he was concerned, the rules of Overwatch didn't apply to Blackwatch -- the only laws that existed here were the ones Gabe decided to make and enforce. Sleeping with subordinates definitely constituted some kind of offence in Overwatch's books, but in Gabe's, well...

 

The kid was of age, and he'd been the one to initiate. He couldn't see anything wrong with it, save for Jesse's attitude.  _ That _ , if nothing else, was going to land his ass in some serious trouble.

 

But Gabe would humor him, if only in the interest of seeing just how ballsy Jesse was going to be about this. 

 

"Oh, you can, can you?" Gabe's drawled, his voice flat and his scowl still fixed in place, though one of his eyebrows lifted as if in mild (albeit morbid) curiosity. He wasn't going to answer Jesse's question; he was stroking the brat's ego enough as it was by even entertaining this conversation. "Like  _ what _ ?"

 

"This mouth's good for more than  _ talkin _ ', sir." And oh, thank  _ fuck _ . It'd been a stab in the dark to swagger in there and pray that Reyes was like any other middle-aged man with a lot of stress in his life, a complete fluke that for all intents and purposes should not have resulted in success - and yet here they were, his CO's cool stare betraying very little but making the heat pool low in Jesse's gut.

 

It could all be a joke, some reasonable part of him thought. Reyes could be playing him for an ultimate humiliation, but Jesse was too-far gone on hope to heed potential warnings. He licked his lips again and gentled his grip on Reyes' wrists, eager enough for any scrap of attention centered exclusively on  _ him  _ to throw caution further to the wind and lean in just a little closer. "Don't look half-bad naked, either." Even if he was all bruised up under the tight cling of his under armor and had a rib or two still poking out where three squares had yet to pad him up. "Don't think you're gonna wanna only  _ look _ , though. Ain't that right,  _ sir _ ? You ever think about touchin' me? Cause by  _ God _ I think about touchin' you. Every damn night, when I can get away with it."

 

He hesitated touching now, though, because Reyes' stare was as unnerving as it was arousing and Jesse had some miniscule sense of self-preservation. That, however, was starting to waver along with his patience the longer he kept Reyes' eye, until Jesse was dragging his hands down, down over Reyes' forearms and then up to his biceps, which were strong and solid under Jesse's callused fingers. He wondered how far he could go, if Reyes would let him press his fingers to his pulse and run broad palms down his chest, and was testing that theory before any part of him could mention that it was a bad idea, fingers dipping under the neckline of his shirt before scratching lightly down over the smooth fabric of his shirt.

 

Jesse never did know when to shut up. That mouth of his was going to land his ass in a whole world of trouble one of these days -- assuming it hadn't already, which was seriously unlikely. Hell, Gabe was tempted to take the kid up on his offer just to get him to stop talking.

 

But he wasn't going to make it that easy.  _ Hell no _ . If he gave Jesse so much as an inch, the kid would make it a mile. Gabe had to keep him on a tight leash if any of  _ this _ was going to happen. Already, Jesse was getting too bold, running his hands across Gabe's arms and chest, wearing that shit-eating grin like he thought his game was impeccable. Gabe snorted, half in disdain and half in amusement, before grabbing Jesse's wrists and yanking his hands away. 

 

He didn't give the kid a chance to protest, much less try touching him again. Instead, Gabe let go and dropped back into his high-backed swivel chair, opening one of the drawers of his desk and pulling out a pack of cigarillos along with his lighter. He didn't usually smoke in his office -- there weren't any windows to open and clear away the stench, and Morrison always gave him shit when he knew Gabe had been smoking. But Jack wasn't  _ here _ , too busy avoiding Gabe like the goddamned plague, so he could smoke all he damn pleased.

 

Leaning back in his chair, he made a point of taking his time tapping a cigarillo out of his silver holder, flipping the case closed, and lighting one end of his cig once he had it between his lips. Gabe had his eyes on Jesse all the while, his gaze cool and calculating, like he was trying to decide if the kid was worth his salt. Whatever decision he had arrived at, however, he didn't bother to voice until after he'd taken a long drag of his cigarillo and was blowing a thick plume of smoke into the air between them.

 

"Let's see you, then." Gabe sounded dismissive, like he very much doubted Jesse looked as good naked as the kid seemed to think he did, like he was just  _ humoring _ him. And that was true, up to a point. It wasn't as though Gabe was entirely unaffected by that last confession -- nor was he entirely  _ surprised _ , frankly, but the thought of Jesse beating one off to him did manage to spark a bit of interest between his legs. "And you better keep me  _ interested _ , or you can get the hell out of my office."

 

 

The silence was killin' him, but not nearly as much as Reyes' cool, unaffected stare. Jesse didn't know what to to with his hands when they were smacked away; moreover, he didn't want to _ not _ be touching his commanding officer anymore, and the sound of discontent that left him when Reyes sat back in his chair and rifled around in his desk for a pack of cigarettes instead of paying Jesse a lick of attention was deafening in the otherwise quiet.

Jesse didn't dare say anything, though. He bit his tongue and clenched his fists at his sides while he waited for some verdict, blood pounding in his ears and balls. Reyes could say no at any moment and there wouldn't be shit Jesse could do about it, so for the first time - quite possibly ever - he waited, as patient as the kid could get.

Finally, cig lit and smoke curling warm up towards the vents, Reyes spoke, and Jesse couldn't comply fast enough.

 

His mouth split into a wide, pleased grin all over again, crooked teeth and dimples that made the corners of his eyes crinkle far too charmingly, and his fingers immediately went to the hem of his shirt, plucking at the fabric to reveal the palest slivers of skin underneath.

 

"Have I  _ ever _ disappointed, sir?" he drawled and didn't give Reyes time to answer, peeling out of his shirt in a flourish of bruise-mottled hips and pale curls on his chest just starting to grow in. There wasn't much, honestly, mostly because four months ago, in an interrogation room with his choices laid out before him, Jesse McCree had been undernourished and pale and dirty. Much of that hadn't changed in such a short amount of time. He was still slim despite the fact that he at for four these days, the 'v' of his hips dipping tantalizingly down under the waistband of his training pants, and he was still dirty, though that was more a result of the time spent on the mat than because he didn't have access to a shower.

 

The shirt flopped on the floor with little ceremony, leaving him exposed from the waist-up with his dusky nipples growing stiff from the AC and Reyes' stare and his chest flushed pink.

 

Jesse licked his lips again and failed to look coy as he hooked his thumbs into his waistband, taking a shuffling step back in the same movement. There was no way to miss the tent in his trousers now, but despite anxiety and that usual boyish self-consciousness, he managed to affect an air of confidence, grinning wide while he pulled the pants away from his skin but didn't quite push them down yet. "Ya want me to do a little dance too, boss?"

 

The kid was  _ too skinny _ , as far as Gabe was concerned -- and that conclusion wasn't just regarding Jesse's physical health, but his overall appearance as well. Gabe preferred his partners to have a bit of meat on them, both for reasons of personal taste, and because it meant they weren't so easy to throw around, that they could take a bit of  _ punishment _ . Jesse looked like Gabe could snap him in half on a whim.

 

He knew better, of course, and he had to admit that Jesse had a handsome enough face, even when he was grinning in that insufferably self-satisfied way of his. It wasn't a confession Gabe would ever say aloud, in the interest of keeping the kid's ego from blowing up even more than it already was. For that same reason, Gabe refrained from showing any sort of interest in the sight of Jesse's bare and bruised chest, looking plainly unaffected and perhaps even  _ unimpressed _ as he raked his eyes across Jesse's newly-exposed skin. Rather than immediately comment, Gabe took a long drag of his cigarillo and fished an astray out of his desk drawer, tapping away a few ashes into the ceramic tray while his gaze remained focused on Jesse. The cold intensity of it enough to keep him pinned in place, while Gabe seemed more interested in dissecting him than watching the kid's (so far godawful) attempts to give him a show.

 

Eventually, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth, Gabe leaned farther back in his chair as if settling into it.

 

"I don't know how many people this routine's worked on in the past,  _ cabrón,  _ but you've got a lot of work to do if you want to keep me interested." That was a bit of an exaggeration, but Gabe was going to make Jesse work for this. 

 

He might've been slim, even a little underweight for his impressive six-foot height, but Jesse McCree could take  _ more  _ than his fair share of punishment. The evidence was already all over his body, would remain splotched there around his hips and chest and collarbone for days, if not weeks, to come. And yet he stood with his shoulders squared and his expression too-bright, like it didn't smart something awful and like Reyes' continued disinterest wasn't enough to put a dent even in the most unflappable of confidence. 

 

"Ain't ever had'ta work  _ hard _ , boss. Just smart." And wasn't that the truth. Jesse hadn't worked a damn day in his life like he was working now, tugging at his trousers until they slipped down his hips and over the curve of his thighs. Shoes were toed off - easy enough with trainers, and Jesse was damn glad he hadn't changed into his boots prior to barging in on the commander - and kicked aside. He was bruised and mottled there, too, but thicker than on top on account of all the laps Reyes made him do on the regular, as punishment for some perceived slight or just cause he was feeling like a sadist at the moment. 

 

He was left standing nearly-nude, underwear clinging obscenely to the line of his cock to the point where he might as well have not been wearing it at all, the way the cloth stained a dark navy where his dick oozed precum and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was the last barrier between himself and full nudity, however, and even with so little on Jesse could cling to the last of his bravado so long as he wasn't completely naked to Reyes' fully-clothed. 

 

That bravado, in fact, was what had him biting the proverbial bullet and suddenly pitching forward, all gangly-limbs that would take time to grow into and a lack of finesse that he seemed to have been cursed with from birth. His pants were left somewhere on the floor, kicked the same way as the shoes while Jesse scrambled over the desk, knocking papers and a comm unit off in his mad dash to get closer to Reyes. He could've gone around, but swinging his legs over and launching himself directly into his CO's desk seemed like the smartest thing to do at the moment, mostly because it didn't give Reyes much time to react. Jesse was straddling him in seconds, cigarillo plucked from his fingers and pressed between his own teeth for a quick, too-rough drag. "Ain't that right, boss? So here's me, workin'  _ smart _ : you're a man that seems'ta know what ya want," and if there was a tremor in his voice, it could be attributed to too much tobacco in his lungs, rather than the fear of the kind of scalding water such close proximity (literally in Reyes' lap, crotch-to-crotch with Jesse's dick pressing obscenely against Gabe's stomach) to his CO might put him in. "So what is it? What'd keep ya interested,  _ sir _ ?" 

 

Not for the first time, Gabe wasn't sure whether he should find Jesse's audacity infuriating or impressive _. _ The kid certainly had balls, and Gabe hadn't failed to note that was true in more ways than one -- though he was skinny as a rail, Jesse looked like he was packing some serious heat beneath those tight navy briefs of his. It was too bad he didn't give Gabe a chance to appreciate the sight, though, honestly, Gabe wasn't surprised when the kid practically threw himself over his desk. Jesse flirted the same way he fought, all recklessness and vigor without a lick of subtlety. It probably worked for him in the past, on other stupid-eager kids his age, maybe even on the older members of Deadlock who were looking for an easy lay. 

 

The thought brought with it an unexpected flare of anger. Where had Jesse learned to act like this, anyway? In  _ Deadlock _ ? Was he really only here because he thought he'd seen Gabe giving him hungry eyes? Did Jesse  _ actually _ want this?

 

Gabe was cold and silent as Jesse crawled into his lap, unable to shrug away his sudden, disturbing uncertainty. He scowled when the kid snatched his cigarillo, but rather than make any move to swipe it back, Gabe brought a hand to Jesse's bare chest as if to shove him away. 

 

He didn't, though, instead keeping his palm pressed flat against his bony sternum while Gabe focused all the grim intensity of his stare on the kid's face.

 

"Why are you here, Jesse?" As agitated as he felt, Gabe's voice betrayed nothing, all calm and clipped like nothing Jesse had done so far had affected him in the slightest. "And don't give me any bullshit, or you can leave my office right now. Tell me the truth."

 

Reyes might've been acting unaffected, his expression betraying nothing and not even a rasp to his voice, but Jesse knew better. He could  _ feel  _ it, in fact, pressing insistently into his thigh, and the surge of confidence something as little as a half-chub gave him was damn near pathetic. Jesse didn't care, though. Proud and confident all over again, he gave a little, exploratory grind of his hips and had to bite his lip almost immediately afterwards, the friction and the fact of  _ who he was doing this to  _ nearly enough to have him busting a nut then and there. 

 

But that would be embarrassing, and Jesse could wrestle his control back from his over-eager body long enough to see this through.

 

At least he could if Reyes stopped  _ stalling  _ long enough to get his show on the road. 

 

Jesse barked a laugh at the question, blowing smoke and ash particulate in Gabe's direction with a crease between his brows that belied his own confusion. "What d'ya mean, boss?" Sex was sex, wasn't it; it didn't really  _ need  _ a reason. 

 

Except Reyes was staring him down and Jesse didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought they'd be talking it out when he'd put this half-baked plan into action, so all he had to share  _ was  _ the truth; truth that he didn't even pause to think about before spitting out. 

 

"Dunno what ya want me t'tell ya, honest. Do you wanna hear that I have thing for  _ authority _ , and as far as I'm concerned you're the closest thing to  _ God  _ in this whole damn operation? Or that I saw ya without your shirt two weeks ago and haven't been able t'keep my hand out of my pants long enough to focus on anything since then?  _ Or  _ that I'm fucking sick of bein' your punchin' bag when Morrison ain't puttin' out, and at least this way I might get somethin' good out of it, too?" 

 

Maybe that was  _ too  _ honest, but Jesse had never been good about filtering his words and Reyes had asked, had  _ demanded _ . Jesse was incapable of noncompliance. He shrugged and planted his knees more firmly on either side of Reyes' thighs, leaning into the hand on his chest like he expected Gabe might try to throw him off. 

 

"Long and short of it is that if you wanted me gone y'wouldn't of wasted your time on this dance. So either put up kick me out or shut up and fuck me,  _ sir _ ." 

 

Just the mention of  _ Morrison _ had Gabe's lip reflexively curling and his shoulders defensively squaring, but he didn't comment on it. He wasn't going to confirm or deny Jesse's suspicions about the current state of affairs between him and Jack -- it wasn't his or anyone else's business.

 

Still, Jesse wasn't entirely wrong, even if there was more to Gabe's bitter mood than just Jack not 'putting out'. The brat was perceptive, but he always did tend to focus on the cruder details while overlooking the subtler ones. Subtlety  _ really _ wasn't his strong-suit. Gabe would have to fix that. 

 

Later _ ,  _ though -- there was something to be said for Jesse's unabashedly forthright way of going about things in situations like this. Gabe could trust that he was being honest about his reasons for being here, for one. It wasn't out of some fucked-up sense of obligation, the kid was just horny and opportunistic. He might be thinking with the head between his legs and not the head above his shoulders, but that was nothing new, and certainly no reason for Gabe to bring his conscience into this. 

 

His concerns were assuaged, then, even if Gabe still felt tense and agitated from having Jack brought up in any context. Hopefully the kid would be smart enough to avoid that topic of conversation entirely, otherwise Gabe really  _ would _ be throwing him out on his ass. What a damn shame that would be, too; Jesse had certainly gotten his attention, and despite Gabe's unrelenting poker face, the insistent press of Jesse's dick against his stomach and the warm weight of that lithe body atop his lap was starting to get to him. 

 

That didn't mean he was going to let Jesse's cheekiness go unchecked, however. Gabe was still the one calling the shots here, and he didn't want the kid getting  _ too  _ pushy.

 

So, he snatched his cigarillo back, took one long drag, then leaned forward to snub it out in his ashtray. The position had him pressed flush to Jesse's bare chest, in a way he  _ knew  _ would divert Jesse's attention. That split-second distraction was all Gabe needed to wrap an arm around Jesse's trim waist and hoist him up onto the edge of his desk. He was standing a moment later, nudging Jesse's knees apart and slotting himself between his thighs. Gabe kept one hand on Jesse's waist, as if to keep him there, while the other slid aside the few contents of his desk that hadn't already been knocked over.

 

"Alright," Gabe grumbled, still managing to look and sound, for all intents and purposes, like he was unaffected. The bulge between his legs told a different story, and while he was sure Jesse had noticed this already, it didn't change anything. "But I'm laying down some ground rules. First off -- I'm still your CO, don't think that changes when you're in here."

 

Gabe glowered when he felt Jesse start to squirm, and brought his other hand to the kid's waist to keep him still.

 

"Second rule -- if you want me to stop, just say the word. Otherwise, we go according to my pace.  _ Comprendes? _ "

 

_ Mile-long legs _ , he'd been told he had once or twice, and he wasted no time in using them the moment he was hoisted into the air and deposited back down at the edge of Reyes' desk. Jesse swung them around Gabe's waist as though to keep him there, propping himself up on his elbows with a cocksure, cat-with-the-cream grin. It was a point of pride, a win, and Jesse was going to milk it for all that it was worth, heel of his foot digging into the small of Reyes' back so that he could grind himself against his CO's hip with unabashed eagerness. 

 

' _ Alright _ ' was tantamount to the highest praise he could've gotten and the hand around his waist just about had Jesse bustin' a nut already, despite that he'd had time to go half-soft while Reyes had been eyeing him like something particularly unsavory scraped off the bottom of his shoe. Reyes' other hand came down, then, and Jesse was forced to be still despite his best effort to the contrary. That was fine, though. He would be getting  _ something  _ out of this. For all that he was a right dick, Reyes had never gone back on his word. 

 

It made him a good leader, and the most trustworthy man that Jesse had ever known at that. 

 

" _ Si _ , yeah. Whatever," he shot back, resisting the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes when Reyes decided that horny and on top of a half-naked,  _ eager _ , partner was a good time to be laying down 'rules'. "Ain't ever had rules when fuckin', boss." In retrospect, maybe there should have been at one point or another, but Deadlock hadn't ever had rules  _ on principle _ and before now Jesse had never been out-of-reach of a gun. He knew where Reyes kept his, though, and he could type in the string of numbers to have the safe popping open in his sleep, if he had to. 

 

"But ya know, it ain't real fair if only one of us here is naked." Still, he made no large move to unwind his legs from around Reyes' waist. Instead, he lifted himself up, abs straining with the effort to hold the position while deft, impatient fingers plucked at the hem of Reyes' shirt and a pout pushed Jesse's bottom lip forward. "Least you could do is show me what I've been dreamin' bout, sir." 

 

Jesse's impatience was nothing new, but  _ shit _ , did the kid ever need to learn to learn some self-control. His constant squirming and griping was quickly starting to wear on Gabe's last nerve. He wasn't sure which was the better response -- teaching the kid some damned  _ restraint _ by refusing to humor his request, or indulging him just to get him to shut up. 

 

But not every moment had to be teachable, Gabe supposed, and his sweater was becoming uncomfortably warm.

 

"No one said this was gonna be  _ fair _ ,  _ pendejo,"  _ Gabe's voice was low and husky, punctuated by a mirthless chuckle as he pushed away the kid's grasping hand and replaced it with his own. Gabe didn't bother to make a show of it; he shucked his sweater and shirt with little fanfare, then tossed his knit beanie to the floor along with them. He rarely removed the latter, save for when he needed to shower or sleep -- his hair annoyed him too much, cropped at the sides and longer at the crown. Gabe preferred the standard military crew-cut, not so much for the aesthetic as he did for the practicality of it. But Jack had convinced him to keep it grown out, apparently because he liked the look of it and preferred having something long enough to pull.

 

The bastard was  _ still  _ in his head, much to Gabe's chagrin. He was clearly thinking too much. Now was a time to be  _ doing _ , not over-analyzing.

 

That was harder said than done, but Gabe would be damned if he didn't try.

 

" _ This  _ is what you dream about?" he teased, and that might have come across as more playful than cruel if not for the way one of Gabe's hands shot between Jesse's legs and began kneading mercilessly at the hard bulge of his dick. "Bet I did more in those fantasies of yours than just take my shirt off, didn't I?"

 

Oh,  _ so _ much more. Jesse scrambled to sit up again when Reyes peeled his shirt and sweatshirt off, eager to watch every move and slight ripple of that muscled chest and broad shoulders. Reyes was  _ fit _ . Unsurprising, given what he did and who he was, but it struck Jesse briefly dumb each time he was reminded of the fact. Deadlock wasn't exactly outfitted with men in peak physical condition, though they were smart and powerful and held a monopoly on big guns and bigger egos. How they'd managed to maintain such a chokehold on the territories they controlled was subject to mystery - or to a lanky kid with an itchy trigger finger. 

 

Jesse was itching to touch again, and he was rarely known to hold himself back from his desires, hands darting out to trace the smooth, dark skin of Reye's chest the same moment that a palm closed around his clothed dick and  _ squeezed _ . 

 

He choked out a groan, hips jerking into the contact that might've been too painful if Jesse wasn't already a good stroke away from coating the inside of his boxers with cum, so the pressure did nothing but make it all  _ better _ . 

 

"Ah,  _ fuck _ ,  _ jefe _ . Tryin'ta kill a man, are ya?" he grunted, fingers wrapping around Reyes' thick bicep as though he was trying to decide whether he wanted to hold him in place and grind against the rough or push him away completely. He settled for something in the middle, shimmying back on the desk to release an ounce of pressure while simultaneously grinding his hips up with a shudder. "Dunno if yer delicate constitution could handle  _ everything  _ I've fantasized, boss." 

 

Gabe actually laughed at that, a deep, rumbling chuckle that sounded genuinely amused. It was a rare thing, to be sure -- Gabe didn't often find reasons to laugh. But he couldn't really help himself, not when Jesse seemed to be implying that he was  _ vanilla _ , that he'd be somehow shocked or scandalized by whatever perverted fantasies Jesse had him starring in for who-knows how long. Gabe was willing to bet he had already tried most of whatever filthy kinks the kid had been dreaming up. He couldn't imagine being surprised by anything, at this point.

 

Gabe's laughter faded away quickly, leaving in its wake a wicked smirk and a glint in Gabe's dark eyes as he continued roughly fondling Jesse through the thin cotton of his briefs. The wet spot there had grown larger with how much Jesse's dick was leaking for him. Gabe took this as his opportunity to begin rubbing his thumb along the damp fabric, circling the wet slit of Jesse's cock head until the kid was squirming.

 

Then, just like that, Gabe lessened the pressure until he was barely more than gently cupping Jesse's dick and balls through his underwear.

 

"Try me," he shot back, mouth still pulled into a crooked line. "Don't spare the details. I want to know what kind of depraved shit you've been thinking about me."

 

That laugh was something else. Jesse wasn't sure if he should've been proud of being the cause of it - wasn't often Reyes smiled, much less gave voice to his amusement - or embarrassed at being laughed at. He settled for something in the middle, smirk matching Gabriel's even as his face heated in response to that too-warm chuckle. His hips jerked into the hand still on his cock, the cruel rub of Reyes' palm and the rough cotton of Jesse's damp boxers making him whine another one of those keening moans.

 

Jesse was definitely going to come. No bones about it, he wasn't even naked and he was gonna pop off inside his underwear like this was the first time he'd ever had a hand on his dick. It was fucking inevitable, and there was fuck all he could do about it -

 

until it wasn't.

 

Reyes eased that persistent, dirty grind and Jesse whined for the loss of _ that, _ too. It was almost a shame, cause an orgasm would've definitely taken the edge off here.

 

Instead, he was faced with teasing, feather-light touches and mocking demands.

 

"Ah, _ shit _ ." Jesse's first response to finding his voice again was to swear, mouth dry and tongue darting out to wet chapped lips.

 

"Fuck, _ jefe _ . Ya tryin'ta kill me or somethin'?" If he had to ask twice, then _ clearly _ that was the case. His head hit the desk, body squirming like he might get just a little bit more of that pressure to toss him over the edge. "Christ - _ ah _ \- want your dick _ , sir _ . Wanna choke on it under your desk while ya debrief some agent. Want ya t'shut me up _ right proper _ , like yer always promisin' but bein' too pussy t'follow through on." His body was positively thrumming, confidence returning the longer he spat out filth and the longer Reyes didn't punish him for it.

 

"You'd like that, huh? Like fucking me until I can't see straight no more? Bet you've thought about chokin' me out, too, leavin' fingerprints round my throat. I want that.  _ Fuck _ , I want ya to bruise me up. We both know that's all I'm good for, huh?"

 

It was at times like this that he could really appreciate Jesse's complete lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Gabe had a weakness for dirty talk. He was usually the one growling filth into Jack's ears, but those few times that Jack pulled him aside in the hall or told him over their private comm line all the filthy things he wanted Gabe to do to him, that he wanted to do to  _ Gabe _ \--

 

The memory brought with it a surge of lust and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about Morrison if his mind was left to wander like this, and it would  _ keep _ wandering until Gabe had something else to focus on. Jesse was a damn good distraction, but just his talking wasn't enough -- he wanted that mouth put to better use. 

 

And what better use for it was there, than fulfilling all those perverted fantasies the brat had been beating off to?

 

"Should've known you were this much of an eager  _ cocksucker. _ " Gabe's smirk didn't falter, and the way he said that last word --  _ purred _ it, like it was more a compliment than an insult -- made it clear that he liked what he'd heard. Jesse had pushed a particularly sensitive button of his, one that had Gabe suddenly moving away and dropping back into his seat, thighs spread and drawing attention to the impressive bulge of his dick straining against his pants. He palmed at himself almost lazily, watching Jesse with a tilted head and dark, hungry eyes.

 

"C'mon, don't just fucking sit there staring stupidly at me. You want to get gagged on your commander's dick? Then get on your knees,  _ puto. _ "

 

"Fuck, _ yes _ ." Yes, he did. The sight Reyes made splayed out in his chair was almost enough to make Jesse forget the fact that he was gone in the first place, that those rough hands and biting smirk were no longer trained on him and were instead roughly tugging at his own dick, still trapped in the confines of his pants. 

 

All of that could, of course, be remedied the moment that Jesse got to his feet and put himself where he wanted to be - right between those thick thighs with his hands wherever he damn well wanted them. He hesitated, though, and despite the order and the slur thrown his way, gave himself that extra moment, first to calm down, then to look Reyes over, eyeing him up and down like  _ he  _ was the one with a treat dangled in front of his nose. Maybe he was. Maybe Reyes was just humoring him, or doing this out of some sense of obligation or pity. Jesse didn't know. 

 

And frankly, he didn't care. Reyes didn't seem like the kind of guy to be so  _ selfless  _ (besides the fact that he apparently took strays in at the risk of retribution from on high), and he was clearly hard, which must've meant he wanted this. Right? 

 

Right. 

 

Jesse didn't linger much longer. Gawky limbs and wild curls sprung into action as he all but launched himself off the table, the half-step necessary to drop himself right between Gabe's legs crossed in no time flat. Then he was sinking down, knees hitting the ground too hard and eager hands reaching for Reyes' belt buckle. "You would fuckin' like that, wouldn't you? Fuck, boss; what else you wanna do to me?" 

 

Gabe moved his hand from his crotch to the top of Jesse's head, his thick fingers curling through that wild mess of hair without yanking back or pulling Jesse any closer. He would let the kid move at his own pace to start. In meantime, the heavy weight of his palm should serve as a reminder of who was ultimately in control here. Even behind closed doors, Gabe was Jesse's CO, and he wasn't willing to invert or otherwise change that dynamic in any way.

 

It was different, with Jack. They had always been on more or less equal footing; first as recruits, then as soldiers and co-commanders. Gabe had been more willing to give up the reins to him when they fucked -- hell, he'd been the one to  _ encourage _ it, back when they started sleeping together. 

 

_ Fuck Morrison _ , though. Fuck him for still carving out a space in Gabe's thoughts, even now, with Jesse crouched between his legs. Aside from the tension in Gabe's jaw, his aggravation likely went unnoticed as he settled back in his chair as he watched Jesse get to work, fumbling with his belt and the fastenings of his pants in his eagerness. Gabe snorted at the sight, and at the question Jesse was panting out as he worked.

 

"What, you think you deserve more than my dick in your mouth,  _ puto _ ?" Even as Jesse's greedy hands reached into his open pants, Gabe appeared unfazed. If not for his dick straining against the cotton fabric of his briefs, he might have appeared wholly uninterested. "Better give me a reason to want to give you  _ more _ , or this is all you're getting."

 

" _ Yeah _ , after the shit you've put me through," Jesse panted. Maybe it was a chronic thing, this inability to keep his mouth shut.

 

"I think I deserve a bit more than you nuttin' down my throat." Though they both knew that Jesse would take anything he was given, whether it be the wet smack of Gabe's dick hitting his chin when Jesse managed to pull it from the man's underwear or the full kit'n'caboodle, lube and condoms optional.

 

Once Reyes' cock - hot and heavy and drooling precum down the shaft - was in Jesse's hand, he wasted little time fucking around, one quick press of a kiss to the thick vein along the underside and a wink shot Gabe's way before he was swallowing, the whole thing disappearing into his mouth from crown to root. Jesse couldn't remember when he'd effectively rid himself of his gag reflex, whether it had been an unconscious reaction to the necessary but often-unpalatable meals he'd had to eat on Deadlock missions or whether some other John with a need or two had held him down until he'd choked, but it proved mighty useful for showing off, and it didn't hurt that Gabe was thick enough to make him  _ feel _ it.

 

Jesse held himself there a moment, waiting for the tell-tale twitch of Reyes' hips against him - that sign that he was getting impatient, that it was too hot and too wet and too tight for him to wait much longer - and when it finally came (miniscule, because no matter how much work Jesse put in he knew he wouldn't get shit until he literally  _ bled _ for Blackwatch and its commanding officer) he eased off, slurping wetly all the way until just the tip was caught between his lips. Jesse was as sloppy in this as he was in his flirtations, chin already smeared in spit and Gabe's dick left shiny, but he didn't care for the mess he left, tongue darting out to catch drops of bitter-tasting pre before he swallowed Gabe back down again.

It wasn't altogether surprising that Jesse knew how to suck cock, but Gabe hadn't expected the brat to gulp him down until his nose was buried again Gabe's crotch without so much as a bat of his eyelashes. Not even Gabe was that good at deepthroating; he had to work himself up to it, especially when his partner was well-endowed. 

 

But Jesse didn't so much as pause, swallowing down Gabe's thick cock like it was  _ nothing  _ (which it certainly wasn't) and holding it in his throat like he was determined to stay like this until he got a reaction out of his CO (which he certainly  _ did _ ). Gabe inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring, but he was otherwise silent as he stared intently at the head of hair between his thighs. He had figured Jesse would be all swagger and no delivery; he hadn't thought he'd actually be any good at this. It was a tactical error, on Gabe's part. He shouldn't have underestimated Jesse. Everyone else did, but Gabe -- of all people -- should know better.

 

The tightness of Jesse's throat quickly became too much. Every swallow felt like Gabe's cock was being squeezed, and the lack of accompanying friction was threatening to crumble his composure. His hips twitched, a subtle but insistent cue that Jesse needed to  _ move _ , and to the brat's credit, he did just that. Gabe nearly cussed in relief as his dick slid out of the confines of Jesse's spasming throat, and then actually  _ did _ cuss when he slurped wetly at the tip. There was no finesse to it, but Gabe always had liked his blowjobs sloppy. 

 

He didn't give Jesse a chance to pull back and comment on the crack in Gabe's cool demeanor, however. Like hell Gabe was going to listen to any of the brat's self-congratulatory remarks. He tightened his grip on Jesse's hair and pulled him back onto his dick, then pushed him down insistently until he'd swallowed every last inch. 

 

"I like you better when you can't talk," he growled through his teeth. That wasn't exactly true, but at least this was one way to keep Jesse from running his mouth when Gabe didn't want him to. He twisted his fingers in the brat's hair and ground his hips up into his mouth. It was still too-tight, almost painfully so, but Gabe was as much a sucker for pain as he was for the sight of Jesse drooling and red-faced. It was a good look.

 

"You better tap out if you want me to stop," Gabe reminded him, not yet letting up his grip of Jesse's hair. He was curious to see how long the brat could hold his dick in his throat for before he either started gagging or gasping for air. The moisture starting to reflexively well in his eyes was indicative that Jesse might start doing the latter, and Gabe decided to go easy on him before he started choking, letting up on his grip so that Jesse could pull back. 

 

Jesse might've had some smart quip in response to that, might've told Gabe that he wasn't clever with that incisive statement, that he sure as shit wasn't the first to sneer while he said it, but the fingers in his hair were tight and there was the issue of a dick down his throat, twitching against his soft palate and effectively shutting up everything but the most obscene groans he could muster and the wet slurp of him trying to take desperate, aborted breaths.

 

No way in hell he was gonna give up, though.

 

Wide hands came to bracket Reyes' hips, not to squeeze or tap or pussy out, but to simply hold him in place, maybe to urge him in tighter whenever he thought he might try and get some reprieve from the  _ tight-hot-wet _ of Jesse's mouth. There were tears in his eyes already, and the next time Jesse swallowed felt like the precursor to a retch, but he was stubborn and a little stupid so it was only reasonable to assume that he wasn't about to concede. He blinked, dark eyes wide and wet and mouth stretched obscenely around the length of Gabe's cock, and glanced up just long enough to make eye contact before losing his - tenuous at best - concentration and starting to gag.

 

Luckily, Reyes had loosened his grip already, which gave Jesse enough leeway to save face when he inevitably pulled off, the whole, thick length of Gabe's cock streaking spit and pre against his cheek while he coughed and swallowed desperate gulps of air. It was all worth it for the smallest of cracks in Reyes demeanour, though.

 

Jesse wasted little time wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, swallowed roughly once or twice, and was right back into it before Gabe could say anything at all, mouth wrapped tight around the head of his dick for a hot second before Jesse was swallowing him down all over again.

 

It was a testament to how long he had gone without sex that Gabe was only barely keeping his cool. There was a line of tension between his brows and a muscle twitching in his jaw, despite his best efforts, and every time Jesse sloppily gulped him down and then pulled his mouth away in a mess of spit and precum, Gabe had to twist his grip on Jesse's hair and exhale sharply through his nostrils. He'd been celibate for way too goddamned long, and Jesse was better with his mouth than Gabe would like to admit, and  _ shit _ , if he kept this up Gabe doubted he would last much longer than a few minutes before he came buried in that deliciously tight throat.

 

Practically speaking, there was nothing wrong with that. If Gabe wanted a round two, it didn't take him much to work up to one, even in his older age. But he didn't want to stroke Jesse's ego like that, didn't want the kid strutting out of here thinking he was hot shit just because he'd gotten his sex-deprived CO off in record time. No, he knew better than to give Jesse more of a complex than he already apparently had.

 

But Gabe also wasn't above giving Jesse credit where credit was due -- and he knew only too well just how much the kid thrived off it.

 

"Mm, not bad," he grunted, curling his fingers in Jesse's hair and letting him give one last, lewd-sounding gulp before Gabe was pulling him off his cock again. He yanked Jesse's head back, so his spit-slick chin was pointed toward the ceiling and Gabe could get a good look at his face, from his flushed cheeks to his blacked-out irises. He smirked, jerking Jesse's head to one side as though to inspect him. "Seems like you've had a lot of practice at this, huh,  _ puto _ ?" 

 

He yanked hard at Jesse's hair again, then abruptly released him. "Stand up. C'mon,  _ ándale _ , before I change my mind."

 

Jesse had  _ every  _ intention to finish Reyes off then and there, though that plan was cut short when the hand in his hair jerked him away in the middle of a particularly obnoxious slurp, pulling him mere inches from his goal. He whined for the loss, gaze hazy and scalp tingling where Reyes kept a firm hold on his hair, but otherwise said nothing, soft, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip while he waited on the appraisal and got something  _ better _ .

 

That scant bit of approval - barely anything at all - had him inhaling a sharp breath, eyes going wide and the color on his cheeks flaring bright pink. He was undeniably pleased by this; it didn't take much, to have Jesse McCree preening, and he did just that under Reye's cold gaze, licking his lips all over again while he contemplated finishing his commander off with a handjob, anyway. He could, too, he was just as good with a spit-slick palm as he was with the tight heat of his mouth. 

 

There was no time to act on any impulses, though, for hardly had Jesse come up with a new wild plan that Reyes was shooing him to his feet, letting his hair go after another hard yank that had Jesse feeling like putty. 

 

" _ Tons  _ of practice, boss," he panted, scrambling up to his feet and adjusting the weight of his dick where it still strained against his underwear. Jesse was all knobby knees and too few good meals, but he was thick where it counted, stretching the fabric of his briefs taut and leaving them stained with precum. "You wouldn't believe what all I cold do,  _ jefe _ , if ya'd just let me." His hand lingered against his dick longer than strictly necessary, but then again, Jesse was young and uncut and sensitive, feeling like every look Reyes sent him was somehow connected right to his dick. 

 

It was almost too much, especially when he was just standing there with nothing else to do. 

 

"What, ya gonna stare me down all day, boss? That why you made me stop?" 

 

"Watch the smart-ass comments, McCree," Gabe admonished, though he might as well have given Jesse a slap on the wrist for how ineffective that demand was likely to be. Hell, part of the reason he had recruited the kid was  _ because _ of his audacity. It hadn't taken Gabe long to see that he had potential beneath that spitfire temper and unabashed snark. Jesse was a clever kid, when he wasn't carrying on like an idiot. 

 

The heavy bulge between his legs was yet another example of that  _ hidden potential  _ Gabe had pinned him for. For how scrawny Jesse was, he had an impressively big dick. Gabe had only glimpsed it before in the locker rooms, and even from those off-handed, disinterested glances, he'd noticed that Jesse was packing. It might explain, at least in part, why he had swaggered into Gabe's office like he was doing his commander some kind of favour. He had an ego as disproportionately large as his cock, apparently.

 

Gabe nearly rolled his eyes at the thought, rising to his feet so he could crowd Jesse against the edge of his desk. Then he reached down, wasting no time in hooking both thumbs on the waistband of Jesse's briefs and yanking them down his thighs. Why Jesse had even still been wearing them, Gabe didn't know. Must have been an oversight on his part, or maybe Jesse was feeling a little self-conscious being so bare when Gabe was still wearing most of his clothes.

 

If that was the case, Gabe didn't give Jesse much of a chance to start feeling uneasy. He shoved him against the desk until he sat his naked ass down, then promptly wrapped a hand around his cock. It was hot and heavy in his hands and already slick with precum that leaked from the darkly flushed tip; Gabe rolled back the foreskin and rubbed his thumb over the slit, watching Jesse's reaction intently. He was going to enjoy making Jesse fall apart. Maybe it would take him down a few pegs to come while screaming Gabe's name like a mantra.

 

And maybe it would be a good thing, to take care of the kid like this. He was always so eager to please.  _ Too  _ eager, sometimes. Maybe he needed to be cut a break, here and there, to have someone else help  _ him  _ out for a change.

 

"Is this why you're always strutting around like you're hot shit?" Gabe shot the question at him like an accusation, and punctuated it with a few rough strokes of Jesse's girthy dick. His other hand began pushing Jesse's chest, until he was eventually splayed out on his back atop Gabe's desk. Gabe kept pumping him all the while, nice and indulgent, like he was intent on getting Jesse off right then and there. "Having a big dick doesn't mean much if you don't know how to use it,  _ cabrón _ ."

 

Jesse McCree was a man fueled by his own overbearing ego and the smarmy comments that came with it, including those that had landed him on more than one receiving end of a punch or some sort of disciplinary action. It was as much  _ him  _ as his too-big cock, which Reyes pulled from his boxers with little ceremony. Jesse hadn't quite grown into it, yet. Maybe he never would. Maybe he'd always get that appraising look that Reyes passed over him whenever his trousers were pulled down, like the man couldn't quite believe that someone as  _ svelte  _ as McCree would come packing real heat between his legs. 

 

Jesse didn't have time to be smug about it, though. He was shoved back until his bare ass connected with the desk, then further until he sat and Reyes was comfortably situated between his sparsely-haired thighs. 

 

Then there was a hand around his dick, and Jesse, vocal as he was, couldn't and didn't bite back the noise that tumbled from between his parted lips, obscenely loud in the cramped, otherwise-quiet office. " _ Oh, fuck _ ." The last time someone else's hand had been wrapped around him, Jesse had been scared that his dick would no longer be attached to his body once all was said and done. Some of that fear was still there, but it was tempered by the fact that it was Reyes and Reyes wouldn't of taken such great pains to get him into Blackwatch if he intended to break him. Instead, the spike of fear gave him just that good edge of adrenaline - the kind of thing that raced straight to his balls and had Jesse keening out a needy little whine against Reyes' shoulders. Both his hands had somehow found their way around Gabe's thick biceps, and his fingers dug into the meat of them, leaving little crescents even through the fabric of his under armor. 

 

"You gonna -  _ ah  _ \- show me how to use it, huh?" He was already panting, thick pearls of precum smearing over Reyes' fingers on every dirty upstroke. Jesse was mesmerized by the sight of his own dick - flushed pink and tan - as it slid through the commander's tight fist. At this rate, he wouldn't last long enough for Reyes to  _ show him how to use it _ , but Reyes didn't seem to care and Jesse sure as shit didn't, rolling his hips in desperate, needy little circles for that extra bit of friction.

 

" _ Ah  _ -" his breath hitched in his throat, caught somewhere before he could deliver another bit of poignant sarcasm; Jesse squeezed his eyes shut, both legs swung around Reyes' waist to draw him closer and fingers scrambling to hold him around his neck, to tug him closer until Jesse was muttering nonsense right into Reyes' ear, wild and  _ needy _ . 

 

"Fuck," he slurred, "Fuck, I'm gonna - co _ mm _ - _ fuck, papi, I'm gonna cum if you don't _ -" 

 

_ Papi _ .

 

Gabe had latched to the word the moment it left Jesse's lips, and he had nearly frozen as he felt it sink in. The reaction in his dick was immediate, twitching such that the fat head bobbed against his stomach and left a stain of precum against the black fabric. He hadn't expected Jesse to say that, but now that he had Gabe wondered why he hadn't fantasized about it sooner. He always had been into dirty talk -- the kinkier the better -- but  _ Jack _ sure as hell had never called him  _ papi _ . It wasn't for lack of encouragement on Gabe's part, either. He made no secret of the fact that he delighted in that kind of filth.

 

But Jesse had offered it spontaneously, like it was something he'd uttered about Gabe before while he furiously jerked himself off in his bunk. The thought alone had Gabe's cock twitching again, and it took nearly every ounce of his self-control not to reach down and touch himself. He couldn't let himself falter now, not when he had Jesse squirming and whimpering under his hand like he was desperate for it.

 

Then again, Gabe realized, a  _ compromise _ could be made.

 

He gave the base of Jesse's dick one quick squeeze before suddenly pulling his hand away and shoving his pants down his thighs until they fell to his ankles. Then, Gabe crowded closer, until the dark, flushed head of his dick slid against the veiny underside of Jesse's. He watched the filthy display for a moment, relishing in it, in the way Jesse's breath was hitching, before he wrapped his hand as much around both of their cocks as he could manage. It was enough that the slow, indulgent pump of his palm felt exquisite, the friction of Jesse's foreskin sliding along his own so much better than his hand alone.

 

"You want  _ papi _ to take care of you?" The heavy grumble of Gabe's voice sounded only faintly mocking, and the intense look in his eyes made his interest very clear. "Better ask nicely,  _ mijo _ , or I might just make you walk back to your bunk with your dick still hard."

It wasn't  _ like _ he was desperate for it. Jesse simply  _ was _ . He was gagging for it, for any scrap of attention he could get from his commanding officer. He hadn't even realized, until a few moments after the words had left his parted, chapped lips that he'd said anything to the effect at all, and he didn't have time to be mortified, either, because no sooner had an embarrassed blush begun creeping up his neck that Gabe was shuffling in closer, the head of his dick nudging up against Jesse's. 

 

Jesse made the mistake of glancing down to where Gabe's dick slid along the underside of his own, taking in the filthy sight of their shared pre leaving their dicks slick and shiny and the pull of his foreskin every time Gabe dragged his fingers over it. It was tight, and wet, and Jesse was left biting his lip to try and hold back the wild jerk of his hips, which was a failed effort anyway because he'd never been able to control himself, no matter how hard he tried.

 

Then Reyes opened his mouth, mocking words coming out in a filthy rumble that had Jesse shuddering and screwing his eyes shut against the sudden pang of heat that had his balls drawing close to his body. 

 

" _ Yes _ ," he hissed, damn near  _ whined _ , and tried to coax Gabe in closer, scrambling to bury his fingers in the curls of his hair. "Yes, papi -  _ papi, please. _ " There was something undeniably dirty about the way Gabe called him  _ mijo _ and stroked his dick and encouraged Jesse's filth, the words tumbling from his mouth a mixture of Spanish pleas and panted, needy ' _ yesses _ ' whined against Reyes' throat in the form of biting kisses. Jesse was undone in mere moments, caught up in his pleasure and the absurdity of the situation. He came, hard, spilling messily over Gabe's hand and both their dicks to a mantra of ' _ papi _ ' panted into Reyes collar.

 

Jesse didn't last more than a couple minutes of Gabe roughly stroking and grinding their cocks together before he came across the back of Gabe's knuckles and along the bare expanse of his stomach. Gabe was not surprised in the slightest; in fact, he had been counting on it, because when Jesse came with a series of whimpered pleas and muffled gasps of  _ 'papi' _ , Gabe wasn't far behind him. He buried his face against the side of Jesse's throat and growled, the sound a low, rumbling vibration that mingled with the lewd, slick sounding pumps of Gabe's fist. Another few rough strokes later, and Gabe came with a grunt and a muffled string of expletives that he hissed into Jesse's skin. Ropes of cum splattered across Jesse's stomach and Gabe's fist, mixing with the pearly smears of Jesse's cooling spend and making the wet slap of flesh that much louder as Gabe continued to jerking them both off. His hand slowed down and eventually stopped when his orgasm came to a gradual stop and he began to feel over-sensitive. 

 

" _ Good boy _ ," Gabe grumbled after a beat of silence, not-quite mocking what with the obvious satisfaction in his tone. He released their cocks a moment later, then lingered a few seconds longer with his face pressed against Jesse's neck until he had caught his breath again. Then Gabe was promptly pulling away, leaving Jesse's perched naked on the edge of his desk while Gabe tucked his softening dick back into his pants and fished out a box of Kleenex from his desk drawer. After cleaning off his fist and dabbing off a few stains of cum from the hem of his shirt, he passed the box to Jesse with a pointed glance.

 

"Clean yourself up before you leave," he ordered, clearly leaving no room for Jesse to linger about in Gabe's office for any longer than was strictly necessary. This had been about sex -- nothing more, and nothing less. Gabe wasn't going to let Jesse think otherwise. He wasn't going to let the kid get his hopes up that this might be leading somewhere other than no-strings-attached fucking.

 

Jesse was clever enough, though. Gabe was reasonably sure he'd get the message.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious:
> 
> Fresh wrote for McCree  
> Tea wrote for Reyes


End file.
